dramione prompt: pleasure
âIt was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy.â She smiles at him, extending her right hand in front of him, offering respect.
Her smile had been the same as it had been when Draco saw her within the Hogwarts wallsâmost especially in the confines of the library, her safe haven, where heâd spent most of his time... observing her.
Her, and the way her curls fly softly in disarray as the books hover within her space; her, and the way her amber eyes swiftly move from left to right between the pages as her fingers curl around the quill sheâd bought a week before; her, and her upturned lip as she writes the last sentence of her essay, marking the end of her library session.
Her, and the way her cheeks flush at the sight of him meeting her gaze. The glint of curiosity in her eyes vanish as fast as her smile when she realizes it. And she glares at him as she had always been.
Oh, how he wished he could see that glare back. How he wished he can see any hint of recognition from this woman in front of him. How he wished to bring it all back.
As he meets her hand with his, he feels a slight sting. He realizes his hand was cold, and hers was warmer. Her eyes still do not leave his, and he is petrified by the way her amber eyes look up close.
Glazed, clouded.
Obliviated.
Before the question can shoot out of his mouth, Hermione Granger pulls her hand away, still smiling. If she had recognized him, she would not be smiling like that to him.
She turns away, but his hand catches her wrist, and he freezes more than she does. He doesnât need to scare her right now, so what was he doing?
âYes?â
Her gaze takes him back to the night before he brought the Death Eaters to Hogwarts. It takes him back to the night of the Final Battle. It takes him back to the day of his trial. He wonders if he had only dreamt it, but her gazes always bring him a certain level of comfort.
And when he had found out about her circumstance a month agoâbeing obliviated to live as a Muggleâhe had known it was not her decision. Hermione Granger was always magic. It did not make sense to him that she would leave the world she had risked her life to save.
He hopes his voice doesnât crack as he says, âNothing, Ms. Granger.â
Then, he pulls his hand away, the warmth from his cold palms leaving as sudden as the sting heâd felt earlier.
âSee you tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy.â She pulls her hand to her chest.
And as she turns away from him for the second time, Draco doesnât hold her back as she runs towards the other side of the street. He wonders if he can get her back to their world. He wonders if his actions had scared her.
But he also wonders if she had felt his magic hovering just on his fingertips. And he wonders if that was why she had rubbed her wrists like she was stung.
With a sigh, he heads back to the Leaky, back to the Auror office, thinking of Granger and her incognizant gazes.















